


Till You're Seventy

by saruma_aki



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Aunt May Is Great, Aunt May and Wade Friendship, Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Insecure Wade, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Peter's not there, Romance, Spideypool - Freeform, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saruma_aki/pseuds/saruma_aki
Summary: Based on a prompt on one of my other spideypool fics;
"Wade wants to propose to peter but first he goes to aunt may to ask for her permission. Lots of fluff and family feels!"





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eurydicoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eurydicoy/gifts).



> I hope I got it right! (I tried to fluff it up, but I might have failed--I'm sorry)
> 
> Enjoy!

It was probably one of the most nerve-wracking things he’d ever had to do, he realized, as he stood on the porch of the modest house in Queens. The concrete was solid underneath his feet, but unforgiving; making him feel like his foot would shatter the second he tried to take a step forward, a clear sign that he should not be doing this.

But, goodness, he wanted to.

His hand shook as he raised it for what had to be the fifth time in the span of fifteen minutes in which he’d been loitering on the porch, garnering some weird looks from passer-bys and a few rude comments from when he had his hood down, but he had pulled it up after the fourth one, his already fragile confidence unable to handle anymore blows considering what he wanted to do.

“Wade, do you want me to open the door or should I give you another few minutes?” May’s voice sounded muffled through the wood of the door, but her words were clear.

Wade felt shame prickle at the back of his neck and his shoulders hunched, his foot scuffing the ground as he meekly pushed the doorbell button instead of answering.

Fuck, he was pathetic.

Here he was, wanting to ask something life-changing, and he couldn’t even press the fucking doorbell without prompting.

Why did he think he could do this?

He was about to make a hasty beat when May opened the door, grabbed his wrist, and dragged him in, letting him go once he was inside so that he could stumble without dragging her down with him.

“Wade, darling, what brings you by?” she cooed, patting his shoulder as she walked past him, motioning for him to follow, and he did, shuffling after her awkwardly, trying to curl in on himself as much as possible.

He opened his mouth to speak, to respond, but all that escaped him was a wheeze of air, his vocal chords seeming to not want to function. He felt heat crawl up his neck and he bowed his head, trying not to get too down on himself—but he was seriously pathetic.

How was he expected to do this?

He tried again after swallowing thickly, eyes fixed on his hands in his lap, safely covered with his fingerless gloves, hiding the majority of the scars dotting them. “I wanted to ask you a, um, a question,” he mumbled, shifting in discomfort in his seat, fingers picking at the threading of his gloves.

May was doing something in the kitchen, the sounds of her motion making him even more nervous. There was a plate set in front of him and he blinked, the smell of the food on the plate making his mouth water just slightly and he raised his eyes to see it was a muffin—blueberry, by the looks of it—and May was apparently now sitting across from him.

Her eyes were warm, but inquisitive, searching for the reason of his visit, but welcoming his presence nonetheless. It actually didn’t make him feel better. If anything, it made him feel worse. To see that welcoming nature disappear after he asked would probably break some part of him.

“What’s your question, dear?”

Wade picked at his muffin, placing a piece in his mouth and chewing slowly. He knew he was stalling and it made his insides churn and his confidence deplete even more. He couldn’t even get the question out. How was he supposed to do this if he couldn’t even do that?

Swallowing, he rolled the next piece between his fingers, licking his lips as he tried to gather what bit of confidence remained to ask his question. “I, uh,” he shifted, shoulders hunching even more, “I wanted to ask for your, um,” he rubbed the back of his neck, tugging his hood further over his face, “your permission to propose to Peter,” the end of his sentence tilted high, making it more of a question than the statement he had aimed for.

It made him feel even worse—another thing to add to his list of failures that day.

“You want to propose to Peter?”

He winced.

She didn’t sound angry or judgmental, but the wonder in her voice made his heart clench. Of course she never expected him to do it. Who would? He couldn’t even ring a doorbell—how was he expected to get on one knee and ask the person he cared the most about to be with him for as long as Peter wanted him?

“I know, it’s dumb—it’s not like he’ll say yes. I just wanted to,” he trailed off, scrubbing his hands over his face, chewing on the inside of his cheek, “to ask.”

“What? Oh, no, no, Wade, no. That’s amazing,” May stood from her seat and rounded the table, crouching in front of him, taking Wade’s hands in hers. Her hands were dwarfed in his, but her grip was strong and her eyes were kind when his flicked up to meet hers. “He will most definitely say yes. And you completely have my blessing.”

He couldn’t help the small smile that broke out onto his face, but it soon disappeared in the face of his thoughts. “How am I supposed to do it, though?” he whispered, looking down again, fighting not to fidget. “I could barely ask you for permission—how am I supposed to ask him?” His voice cracked on the last few syllables and he could feel the burn in his eyes.

He had been agonizing about it for days, to the point where Peter had begun to notice his odd behavior and would try and cheer him up, but his actions merely solidified the thought that he just really didn’t deserve Peter.

“You can do it, darling,” May assured him, giving his hands a reassuring squeeze and bringing his eyes to flick back up to hers, a lone tear dripping down his cheek and she brushed it away with her thumb.

Peter would do that, too. Both of them were so unafraid of his skin, of touching it, that it made something inside him squeeze tight and make him feel like he couldn’t breathe.

“Do you love him?” She asked, cupping his cheek and staring deep into his eyes—deep into his soul.

He nodded without hesitation, a jerky movement of his head, his lips pursing themselves in an attempt to stop their trembling. “With everything I am.”

“Then it’ll be easy-peasy, lemon-squeezie; trust me.”

Her smile was warm and bright and he felt the corners of his lips twitch up in response. He could trust her. She had raised Peter—sweet, kind, understanding, trustworthy Peter.

He nodded again, the jerky movement, and she cooed, straightening and dragging him to his feet so that she could envelope him into a tight hug and he squeezed right back, feeling a few more tears fall.

“It’ll be alright. Don’t you worry,” she whispered in his ear, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You’ll both love each other till he’s old and grey.”

Wade nodded his head. “And beyond.”

She smiled up at him, her eyes crinkling in the corners, her expression warm. “And beyond,” she agreed with a small wink at him that never failed to make him grin.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to find me on instagram ( @saruma_aki )
> 
> Let me know what you thought in the comments below! <3


End file.
